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| THE NIGHT descends in glory, and adown the purple west | |
| The young moon, like a crescent skiff, upon some fairy quest, | |
| Has dropped below the opal lights that linger low and far | |
| To havens that are beaconed by the Pilot’s evening star; | |
| And slowly, softly, from above the darkness is unfurled | 5 |
| A wondrous curtain loosened on the windows of the world. | |
| Then suddenly, like magic, where smoke-stacks fumed the while, | |
| Ten thousand lights flash out aflame along the Golden Mile. | |
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| And thro’ the dusky gauze that falls upon the looming mines | |
| Dim spires and spars of poppet-heads in faintly broken lines | 10 |
| Grow clearer to the vision, till the shadow picture seems | |
| The argosies from half the world i’ the misty Port o’ Dreams; | |
| And lo! where golden Day had reigned in radiant robes of blue, | |
| A god of joy and hope, who thrilled the sons of toil and rue, | |
| Now comes the Queen of Starland forth to scatter with a smile | 15 |
| Her diamonds that flash and blaze along the Golden Mile. | |
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| And all the night a thousand stamps in ceaseless rhythmic roar | |
| Are beating out the tragic gold from endless streams of ore, | |
| These harnessed giants of the will that so are trained and taught | |
| To answer to the sentient touch and catch the thrill of thought, | 20 |
| From nerve to nerve that quivers thro’ the animated steel, | |
| And makes it live and makes it move and strength emotions feel, | |
| Till in their voices music comes insistent all the while | |
| Reverberating massive chants along the Golden Mile. | |
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| And down below, a thousand feet, a thousand miners tear | 25 |
| The golden ore, the glistening ore that holds such joy and care; | |
| Ah! down below, another world, with hopes, desires, and dreams,— | |
| Such playthings as the tyrant Fate in fickle will beseems. | |
| Ah! down below, where panting drills are eating thro’ the rock, | |
| Where life and death are lurking in the fire’s convulsive shock,— | 30 |
| Where many a sturdy hero delves within the lode’s long aisle | |
| To win him love, the gold of love, along the Golden Mile. | |
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| Now speeding westward flies the train into the wondrous night, | |
| The engine pulsing as a man who strives with strenuous might; | |
| Its great heart seems to throb and throb, its breath comes fierce and warm | 35 |
| To vitalize the force that sleeps along its sinuous form; | |
| So dreaming back from Somerville, a sad thought fills the air, | |
| And starts a poignant fancy o’er the wondrous city where | |
| From Lamington to Ivanhoe there’s many a tear and smile | |
| Beneath the myriad lights that gleam along the Golden Mile. | 40 |
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| How bright they glitter down the streets o’er camp, and mill, and mine, | |
| The reflex of that mystic stream that flows from dark to shine— | |
| The brother of that vital spark that wakes from mystery, | |
| And grows to life and will and power and human entity; | |
| The confluent currents of the mind that holds us all in fief, | 45 |
| And gives to some the thrill of joy, to some the pang of grief— | |
| Ah! many noble deeds are done and many that are vile | |
| Where love is lost and love is won, along the Golden Mile. | |
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| So midnight chimes across the gloom, as we are speeding west, | |
| And sirens screech the respite sweet that ends in sleep and rest; | 50 |
| The cool breeze meets the tired brow and whispers gentler tales | |
| That seem to murmur with the metre sung by wheels and rails. | |
| The night has grown in glory and from out the purple dome | |
| Ten thousand stars are gleaming to show the wanderer home; | |
| While fainter fades the glimmer, like a city on an isle, | 55 |
| Till swallowed in the darkness are the lights along the Mile. | |
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